On a Date: Tall Girl

After many drinks and continuous dancing, she agreed to come to my car, which was parked in a dark lot behind the bar. We stuffed ourselves in the back seat and I admired the girl's length.

"How tall are you?" I asked.

"5'11"" She said.

I had a good two inches on her but the task was daunting. I pounced and flipped her on her back. I figure a big girl wants to feel small, so I did my damnedest to be that much bigger, but try as I might she proved almost too vast to master. She was like a giant, overturned crab, latching on to me, clawing at me with unprecedented strength and reach. I looked at her exposed stomach, even her navel seemed large, a cavern almost... I let my thumb wander into it and she flinched.

"That tickles!"

I kissed her neck, squeezed her breast, and put my thumb back in her bellybutton. She laughed with the peculiar strain of a tickle victim.

"Stop!" she squealed, and my car trembled.

I had found my dominance. I tickled her mercilessly. I tickled her until tears streamed down her face. I tickled her with my eyes glazed and my jaw set. Soon she was exhausted, tortured, her hair a mess. Now I could fuck her.

"Get off of me!" She screamed, tossing me aside like a rag doll.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" She wrenched open the door and got out, her heels and clutch grasped in one, big hand.

"Wait," I cried, "You're beautiful!"

She slammed the door in my face and I watched, through my rear window, as she strode away, a beautiful Giacometti that I hadn't the confidence to court.